


peaceful streets i don't want to see

by omnichromatic



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Doomed Timelines, Dream Bubbles (Homestuck), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Except the kids got switched around, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jade n John were on the meteor, Meteorstuck, also kind of regular
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:07:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omnichromatic/pseuds/omnichromatic
Summary: John wanders through his old house in a dream bubble, not working through his problems.Nepeta finds this method of living to be depressing.Requested John/Nepeta angst by a friend. <3
Relationships: John Egbert/Nepeta Leijon
Kudos: 19





	peaceful streets i don't want to see

**Author's Note:**

> If you stumble upon this, thank you for reading! Feel free to ask questions or provide criticism

Your name is John Egbert, and your timeline is doomed.  
A year ago you got onto the meteor with Jade, Nannasprite, Davesprite, Kanaya, Terezi, Karkat, and Gamzee.  
Nannasprite died slowing down Bec Noir. Gamzee killed Terezi and Karkat, before Kanaya sacrificed herself to fling the both of them into space. Jade cracked under the stress and… You shudder.  
Just Davesprite is left now.  
You two don’t get along well.  
Both of you know that you’re going to die soon.  
You suspect that Davesprite knows more about the specifics, but he won’t tell you.   
You wonder if Dave and Rose are dead.

Most of your time is spent cloistered away in your room until the sprite’s slightly echoey voice crackles to life over the intercom, faithfully reporting upcoming dream bubbles. He could just knock on your door, but maybe the routine is comforting or something. Or he’s an extra, prideful prick who likes to hear his own voice.

DAVESPRITE: hello isn’t it a beautiful day and or night on this meteor  
DAVESPRITE: just kidding of course i know what time it is on earth right now  
DAVESPRITE: seven oh two in the morning  
JOHN: SHUT! UP!  
DAVESPRITE: now i know some of the breezy boys in the crowd are probably getting restless to hear the dealio  
DAVESPRITE: so  
DAVESPRITE: ill get to that of course what kind of host would i be if i didn’t just get on with the point  
DAVESPRITE: not a very good one  
DAVESPRITE: caw  
DAVESPRITE: anyhow  
JOHN: ohhh my fucking god.  
DAVESPRITE: yeah well  
DAVESPRITE: ive kinda used up my time for the announcement  
DAVESPRITE: so ill say it fast  
DAVESPRITE: dreambubbleapproachi--  
Like the bursting of pressure when one dives into a pool, your entire surrounding changes shockingly and immediately. You’re blinded by the new lights where it’s daytime and not a *very* dimly lit meteor (once the trolls died you never found out how to set the lights higher), and you raise a hand to your forehead for shade. You don’t hear Davesprite babbling, so he must have been put in a different memory.  
Your vision gets less fuzzy and you’re hit with a somehow brighter wave of emotion as the surroundings come into view.  
Your room.   
Everything is perfect, untouched, no imps, no oil, no cakes. The window shows the front street and you swear a bird zips by.  
It’s quiet, and yet not in an empty way. The house is fresh, serene, blank.  
You wipe away a tear or two and creep through the door.

No ghosts are around, and your dad’s not here either. The fridge isn’t moved. Nanna’s urn is untouched on the mantle. And for a while it’s great..  
And you’re… Still alone…  
And… The bubble hasn’t passed yet.  
It’s been two hours and there’s nothing to do here that won’t make you feel like shit.

So you gingerly take the cover off the piano in the hallway, quietly as though you aren’t about to play on it and you’re going to preserve the soundless quality of this memory.  
You tap one of the keys. It seems to be in tune.   
For a little bit you have to just sit there and breathe to yourself and feel the reverberation where you’ve pressed the key. ‘Till you think you hear something clatter in the kitchen and you jump up, hammer in hand, before remembering you’re safe.  
JOHN: who’s there?  
There’s no response, and it’s quiet again.  
JOHN: hello…?  
…  
JOHN: nobody..?  
JOHN: must be imagining things.  
Still a bit tense, you sit back down at the bench and think about your memories at this seat.

_You breathe in awe as your dad gently holds onto your wrists and guides your hands to make chords. Every note is so pretty, making something new.  
He ruffles your hair and you smile, showing him how you can make your own songs! It doesn’t sound as pretty as what he showed you, though._

_You bang out what the sheet says to, and your dad passes by with a nod. However, he tells you to loosen up and play the way it makes you feel instead of relying on the reading.  
It doesn’t make sense, so he plays your piece with his own spin and it sounds… perfect._

_Your handwritten sheet music is very hastily scribbled, you wrote it all down before you could forget a single piece. Your dad sits on the bench to play the lower chords, and you both smile while you play the melody._

You stare at the keys, feeling like playing anything would be wrong. You don’t remember how, or you’ll sound bad. But after such a long silence, you’d play your worst just to enjoy the memories of this piano’s sound.  
You set your hand down for a chord, and it rings out just like you were hoping. 

You play through one of the songs you heard once, and you know you get it wrong a lot. Artistic liberty, you’ll call it, for the sake of being prideful. And it sounds nice... You feel lost by the time you’ve finished, so much so that you almost don’t hear the murmuring behind you.  
Almost.  
NEPETA: :33 < that was so purretty!  
NEPETA: :33 < i haven't heard someone be so good on the wooden keyboard befur!  
You spin around on the seat and brandish a weapon once again at the newcomer- you’ve met Meulin before, but you think this must be her scratched counterpart. She seems slightly taken aback, but smiles after a moment. You are caught under her white eyes.  
NEPETA: :33 < oh, john!!  
NEPETA: :33 < its b33n so long since i last saw you  
JOHN: oh.. um, you must’ve met another me?  
You shut the piano and shuffle away, feeling a bit overwhelmed.  
NEPETA: :33 < oh i know  
NEPETA: :33 < i am furly sure my timeline’s john died  
NEPETA: :33 < are you…?  
JOHN: yeah, i’m doomed.  
JOHN: still… still kickin’, somehow.  
Walking towards the living room, with a ghost in tow, you float up and over the couch to study her while she leans over the backing.  
NEPETA: :33 < ...i s33  
JOHN: i don’t know if it’s worth holding out to even know if dave and rose are alive.  
JOHN: davesprite won’t tell me.  
JOHN: i don’t know if we can win against the bad guys without the trolls and jade.  
NEPETA: :33 < buts thats the thing  
NEPETA: :33 < *ac smiles and climbs over to sit next to egfur* you still dont KNOW  
JOHN: we have to be doomed.  
JOHN: jade’s death wasn’t… it wasn’t heroic.  
NEPETA: :33 < what happawned to her?  
Your shoulders fall.  
JOHN: she… killed..  
NEPETA: 33: < ...  
You swallow the lump in your throat and stand up, pacing away.   
You can’t think about it. You can’t let it be a possibility, you can’t think that your friend would…  
Jade wouldn't…  
 _  
You glance down at the note, which is smeared and stained with tears. Some of them are fresh, and some are old. Her light green curly handwriting wavers under your vision.  
i’m sorry that i couldn’t save us. i did the wrong thing, i know… i doomed us, john, and i can’t look at you or davesprite now  
he keeps saying that it’s not my fault, but when i see you alchemizing cakes i think of your sprite  
and when either of you try to act happy, it’s only because you want me to be  
i can’t be anymore when i know how wrong things are…  
i met dave from a different timeline in the bubbles  
he told me his group was on the meteor instead  
we couldnt beat it, john  
i’m sorry  
Nothing feels real anymore._

_DAVESPRITE: why the FUCK didn’t you watch her  
Davesprite screams in your face, wings flared, disheveled. You stare blankly at him and continue to cry in silence.  
DAVESPRITE: WHY DIDN’T YOU?!  
JOHN: i-  
DAVESPRITE: you WHAT  
DAVESPRITE: you thought she was SAFE  
DAVESPRITE: you thought our watch scheduling meant NOTHING  
He turns away, pure vitriol dripping through his voice as he swept out of the room.  
DAVESPRITE: congratulations  
DAVESPRITE: shes fucking safe now  
DAVESPRITE: i hope she knows who really killed her.  
_

You slam the front door of your house shut and don’t care when you hear it open again. The oliveblood yells after you, and you keep walking. You need to be away from this memory.  
You start running down the serene suburban street. It’s too quiet. You need to be away from this all.  
You hear a fierce cry, and then you’re knocked off your feet while your surroundings blur and morph into something new.

When you wake up, the first thing you see is the sunlight filtering through dense trees. You curl your hand around a pile of pine needles, and let them sprinkle back down while you stare vacantly at the leaves above. You only move your head when you hear shuffling at your side.  
The oliveblooded girl is sitting with her legs crossed, staring down at you in worry.  
NEPETA: :33 < im glad you’re awake!  
NEPETA: :33 < mew hit your head on a rock  
You stare back, in a silent apologetic expression. Now a ghost is involved in your own emotional outbursts. You feel ready to burst into sobs if you try and say anything, but sit up so she know’s you’re okay.  
NEPETA: :33 < john?  
NEPETA: :33 < *ac shifts nervously*  
NEPETA: :33 < i know mew don’t really know me  
NEPETA: :33 < and i know mew think you’re doomed  
NEPETA: :33 < so can we start fresh and be furrends?  
JOHN: ...  
NEPETA: :33 < we used to meow with eachother  
NEPETA: :33 < and you told me i was nice and.. other things  
NEPETA: :33 < but i think you’re nicer!  
NEPETA: :33 < and i want to make you f33l better if i can  
She tentatively places a hand on your shoulder, and you stare down at it while you wipe a tear or two away.  
NEPETA: :33 < you aren’t doomed if you’re happy  
NEPETA: :33 < i mean mew technically are but.. *ac scoots closer*  
NEPETA: :33 < it doesn’t have to f33l that way  
She hugs you, and your heart hurts badly. You don’t want her to like you, because then it’ll hurt when you inevitably die. You don’t want to like her, because if you’re attached you won’t be able to let go easily. But with the burning of your chest you lean forward into the hug, sniffling and mumbling incoherently.   
She only hugs you tighter, nuzzling into your shoulder.

You think things might be okay like this for now.  
You close your eyes, and hope this dream can last a little longer.


End file.
